Walking in Glass Slippers
by commander in blue
Summary: AU: Not the fairy tale type, Cammie can't help but feel like Cinderella when she's forced to move in her cousins after a school mission goes wrong. The stakes are high to keep her cover as a normal girl, and with luck, she might just get a happy ending.
1. the great escape

**an: like all first chapters of my multi-chapter story, this one is a test drive. sorry if there are spelling mistakes, i was in a rush to get this out.**

**this is my play on cinderella, you can kind of guess who everyone parallels with.  
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**disclaimer: i'm not ally-c.**

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_"throw it away,  
forget yesterday,  
we'll make the great escape" **-- **_**boys like girls**_  
----_

"Listen up, Cammie, the next words that come out of my mouth are _life altering_." I've heard a lot of life altering words in my sixteen years, I can't lie about that, but none of them ever came from the mouth of someone who:

a.) is wearing bright pink "Kiss Me Kate" lip gloss. Which matches their bright pink mini skirt. And matching black top. And high heeled shoes,  
b.) considers the hair straightener to be the greatest invention of the 21st century.  
c.) can name almost every _Nylon_ cover girl, but can only name ten US presidents.  
d.) all of the above.

Well, if you picked option _d, _then congratulations, you perfectly described my cousin Tina. Her twin sister, Anna, is only a little different. And by a little different, I mean that she's a blonde to Tina's brunette. The discrepancy stops there.

"We're serious, Cam. You get to start over, where nobody cares about you," Anna agreed, solemnly nodding her head. "Your _reputation _depends on us. Don't you care?" Short answer: no. Long answer: I'd care more about paint drying than to keep up with their petty social lives.

I would have taken her seriously if not for the fact that I saw her nearly stab out her eye with an eyelash curler this morning.

"Yeah, you don't want to be a _freak _do you?" Tina cringed at the thought her black sheep of a cousin threatening her A-List status.

"We could give her a makeover!" Anna gushed, clapping her hands together excitedly. I can't believe I was related to someone who did that.

Tina studied me for a moment. "I can see her as a plain looking Sophia Bush. Without the good hair."

"Really? I guessed Leighton Meester with smaller lips and lack of killer cheekbones."

"—man, she's gonna need a lot of work."

"Work? I hope you mean plastic surgery."

I waved my hands in the air frantically. "Hello? Right in the room! I can hear you criticizing me!" I snapped. The pair rolled their eyes at me before returning to their endless supply of magazines and Roseville High yearbook.

Tina put on the sickly sweet voice that usually made my skin crawl. "Cam, honey, we just want you to look good. I mean," she dropped her voice to a sympathetic whisper, "you got _expelled _from your school. I didn't want to tell you this, but people are already talking about you at Roseville. We just want you to look good when they finally see you." Like all good covers, I knew not to correct her about the expulsion bit. If people at Roseville thought I was a delinquent, then I'd have to stick with it.

"Besides," said Anna, "we're experts. Give us one day with all of our beauty supplies, and you'll go from Cammie the Corrupted to Cammie the Cute in no time."

If that didn't seem like hell, then try the past two weeks of my life. Ever since my parents dropped me off at my Aunt Mia's house to live while they were on "business" (good thing the Walters family was gullible, none of them even questioned the fact that I went to a _boarding school_.), life had been nothing but an endless blur of being forced to accompany the twins to the mall and putting up with their backhanded compliments. Sometimes, it got so worse that I was seriously considering putting them in a box and sending them to Cuba, but I guess when you're _popular_, people will question where you are.

Aunt Mia and Uncle Marc lived in small three bedroom home. Anna and Tina shared room, so I got to sleep in the guest room—aka—their storage room for shoes and accessories. Let me tell you, it's _not _pleasant to wake up with Anna's unmade face in yours, demanding to know where you put her new Manolos.

I didn't mind the lack of space that much—I shared a room with three other girls at Gallagher—but I did mind the constant reminder that I was an outsider in their perfect home. Mia was my dad's sister, so I expected her to treat me like a daughter of her own, not some poorly dressed street urchin. Marc was better, but he was hardly ever home. Somebody had to pay for the twins' compulsive shopping.

"Are you paying attention?" Tina's slightly nasal tone snapped me out of my trance. I had to give them credit: for two Serena van der Woodsen wannabes (I preferred Blair, myself), they had the organization of a small army. In two short minutes, they set up an easel with pictures of various A-Listers and what exactly I needed to know about them. Mr. Mosckowitz—my eclectic but neat freak teacher— would have been proud.

"Yeah," I muttered, sitting back up from my lying position on Anna's bright yellow bed. It was of the few non-pink or corresponding shades of pink things in the room. Obviously there was a theme here.

"Good." She grabbed a ruler and whacked the picture on the easel—a scenery shot of Roseville High. "This is Roseville High School and _yes, _those are real roses courtesy of our gardening club." Tina snorted at her joke, but stopped abruptly when she figured out that I didn't find her _Home and Garden _humor amusing.

Anna flipped to the next picture. "And _these _are the people who matter," she said proudly. The quality was surprisingly good for a blown-up yearbook picture. Instead of the school, it was a girl with jet black hair and bright blue eyes. Judging by her "my life is so perfect I'm bored" expression, this one of the many girls the twins' gossiped about in private.

"Macey McHenry—"

"As in the senator?" I queried.

"Yes, _that _Macey. You'll love her and hate her at the same time," Tina explained, slightly bitter sounding. "She's a bitch, but you'll get used to it. Especially if she deems you worthy of hanging out with her." _Deem me worthy? _Was I the only one who saw an issue with that statement?

The idea of high school hierarchy made me want to laugh and re-watch _Heathers _for tips simultaneously. If I could deal with exams at Gallagher, then I think I could deal with the Senator's big, bad daughter.

Another flip and a new picture is on the easel. This time, it's a pretty black girl with long, dark hair and cappuccino colored skin. Unlike Macey, she was grinning at the camera, but it seemed like she didn't want to be there. "Rebecca Baxter," introduced Tina.

"It's _Bex _if you don't want your ass kicked," Anna added; something told me that she had made that mistake before.

"She's British, doesn't take crap from anyone, and is too dramatic," Tina said, making it all the more obvious that this speech had been rehearsed beforehand.

Anna revealed the next picture: a blonde girl who smiled nervously at the camera. "Liz Sutton," announced Tina indifferently, even stifling a yawn for emphasis.

"Nothing special," she explained with a shrug, "but she's the nicest. She and Macey are like sisters." Looks can be deceiving—I know that better than anyone—but that girl must've had one heck of a tough skin to be considered "almost sisters" with Mussolini-Macey.

Two pictures flip by, and I'm made familiar with two boys named Jonas ("He's weird," Anna said, "but he's like my dorky brother.") and Grant ("Yeah, he's hot," admitted Tina, "but don't bother, he and Bex are on the verge of being a couple.").

As they made me less of an outsider in their insider world, I couldn't help but miss my own friends. Gallagher girls aren't just peers, we're sisters. And at that moment, I would have given anything to see Courtney, Kim, or Eva again. Despite the risks, I had even given them the address of the house to write me letters (emails are ridiculously easy to hack; letters are better with Dr. Fibs DNA recognizing seals), but I knew it was false hope. After everything that happened, there's no way that the teachers would let them risk school exposure again.

I tried to get my mind off what happened, so I focused all of my attention on the next boy. He seemed vaguely familiar, but it wasn't until I realized his picture was on Anna's night stand that _this _was Josh Abrams.

Ever since I moved in, Anna seemed to only talk about the latest gossip or her new boyfriend, Josh. From what she told me, I knew he was cute, but I had no idea he was _gorgeous. _With his brown hair and bright baby blues—not to mention the best smile—, I now understood why Anna was obsessed with him.

"Josh Abrams," Anna gushed with a goofy grin plastered on her face, "Fun, smart, cool, sweet—"

"Oh God, you're making me sick!" snapped Tina. If were were talking about anything else besides a movie star look alike, then I would have respected her outburst. But for future notice, that girl better keep her mouth shut when we're discussing Josh Abrams. Even if he was my cousin's boyfriend, I was allowed to have an opinion of him, right?

Anna must have caught on to me gaping at his picture, because she pointed out harshly, "and he's totally _taken_." A girl could dream, right?

"Please, as if anyone else could deal with his sugar-like qualities and your weird obsessions." She hastily flipped over to the next picture. And this time, _she _was the one with the goofy grin. Maybe I was still buzzing over Josh, but after looking at _this _boy, I was seriously questioning what exactly was in the Roseville water. He had messy dark hair, with his gleaming mischievously—like he knew something you didn't; I was very familiar with that look—and green eyes. It was the half smirk that got me.

"Zach Goode," Tina swooned. I have a tendency to embellish, but believe me when I say that this girl actually _swooned _while she said his name.

Anna rolled her big brown eyes. "Who's the obsessed one, now?" she teased, with a playful smile.

Tina mock-gasped. "There's no such thing as _obsession _when it comes to Zachary Goode." I laughed, I couldn't help it. This was the first time that I saw the twins exhibit some sort of personality that wasn't a rip off of _Mean Girls._

She turned to me. "He's editor of the school newspaper, he knows pretty much all there is to know about everyone. It's crazy." She beamed. "And he's _single._"

But the idea of him being single didn't make my stomach dip. I knew my cover down pat, but something about him knowing everything about everyone was suspicious. And right now, suspicion was synonymous with _danger. _It wouldn't take much for everything to unravel, just one misstep and everyone would know the truth.

That my parents didn't really leave for a "business" trip.

That I didn't really get expelled from the Gallagher Academy.

That I'm really a spy.

I guess that I should start from the beginning..

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**the next chapter will be less lame, promise.**

**i might change the summary, just so you know. so, what do you all think? i hope it's not too similar to other stories, i've put in a lot of twists to make it different. the next chapter is about _why _cammie is with tina and anna.  
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**liked it? hated it? be sure to tell me about it? :D**

**-- asha (:  
**


	2. good girls go bad

**AN: _21 reviews _for the first chapter? you guys are fabulous, if could send you each a sandwich made out of awesome, i would :D**

**this chapter is mainly told in flashbacks. they are italicized.**

**and cammie's dad is alive in this story. idk why, but he just is. this is a really long chapter, but it explains a lot.  
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The Gallagher Academy is known for a lot of things: excellent teachers, beautiful grounds, and accelerated courses.

Not to mention it's _the _school for spies.

You know how some people just know what they're gonna be when they grow up? Tina and Anna wanted to be starlets, I wanted to a pavement artist. While Tina and Anna were potty training, I was surveillance training. When they learned how to read, I was learning the Mendowsky maneuver. When they discovered boys, I was discovered how to turn perfume into chloroform. Catch my drift?

I had been sure of my fate ever since I started at the Gallagher Academy. From the second I stepped onto the lush grounds of Gallagher, I just felt like I was home. Until then, 'home' was staying at Tina and Anna's house while my parents went on some mission. It's funny, Aunt Mia and Uncle Marc—who are the complete opposite of spies—call Mom and Dad unfit parents in private for gallivanting around the globe and ditching their only kid wherever. But little did they know, my mom and dad were protecting me in every way possible. To them, 'danger' is falling out of a tree and scraping your knee.

To spies, 'danger' is where people want to kill you simply because than can.

Needless to say that my days with the Walters' were hell. If I wasn't forced to clean the twins' pig sty of a room while they were at school (I couldn't enroll, I was still 'home schooled'. Spy translation: I already knew everything I could know before going to Gallagher), then they made me play Jack from _Titanic _while the twins battled over who got to be Rose. Anna always won, simply on the pretense that her hair was closest to red as strawberry blonde. They made me do their chores—and I would have told them 'no' if paralyzing them wouldn't have lost me TV privileges—and sometimes their homework. When teamed up, Anna and Tina were definitely a force to be reckoned with. Especially when your parents forbid you from starting any sort of trouble at the Walters house.

But then something amazing happened when I was eleven.

En route back to our CIA-approved apartment complex, my mom told me that she had been offered the job of Headmistress at the Gallagher Academy. She accepted. At first, I was majorly pissed that I would be under parental supervision during the most independent time of my life, but I warmed up to the idea. Dad, on the other hand, would stay with the CIA. But, he was going to retire as a field agent and train new ones. Secretly, I was just happy that both of them would stay in one place for once.

The summer passed quickly, and this time, my parents only left on a mission once for three days. At least Tina and Anna were over _Titanic _then_. _A girl can only pretend to die in a pool for so long. Before I knew it, my mom and I made the drive up to the academy, and I just felt like something was _finally _going to change.

* * *

When I met my roommates for the first time, I expected them to be a lot like me, mainly because I wasn't exposed to a lot of spies my age. I expected them to be nice enough, sort of quiet, and funny in an accidental way. We would like all the same movies, help each other study, and just be as tight knit as possible. We would have differing personalities, but we would balance each other out. We'd be like sisters.

Instead, I got Courtney Bauer, Kim Lee, and Eva Alvarez.

---

_"You must be Cammie," one girl purred, the second I stepped into our dormitory. She was impossibly beautiful, with wavy blonde hair and navy blue eyes. If only I knew that those were the eyes of what would be downfall. Just looking at her messed up my self esteem. I looked down at my feet, wishing that I had done something with my hair besides throwing it in a frizzy ponytail "I'm Courtney, but you _must've_ known that."_

_Another girl stepped into the room, lugging her suitcase behind her. Her jet black hair was piled stylishly on her head, with her almond shaped eyes framed with thick lashes. "Ignore her," she advised. She rolled her eyes at Courtney, who made it very clear that she was going to get the biggest closet. "I'm Kim," she added quickly. _

_"Hey, is there a party in here, or what?" The yells of_—obviously—_my other roommate filled the room. I liked her right off the bat. She was all smiles with her curly brown hair, olive skin, and dimples. "Whoa," she stopped dancing into the room when she saw me. "Are you Cammie?" Before I could answer, Courtney interrupted me.  
_

_"_Duh_, Eva," sneered Courtney, "what, did that water in Spain pollute your mind?"_

_Eva snorted. "More like your _cheap _perfume." I felt like an outsider. Judging by the way Eva and Courtney talked to each other and how Kim immediately started rummaging through Eva's suitcase for a spare shirt, these girls knew each other very well.  
_

_Kim joined in. "But does her perfume smell like Venice at night?" An inside joke, just my luck. Everyone knew that inside jokes were the universal way of saying "we belong, but do _you_?" And by the way they were laughing_—_like hyenas_—_just made my discomfort worse. Nobody stopped to explain the joke to me, or even bothered to make conversation as I unpacked my things. So much for sisters.  
_

_This was going to be a long year._

_---  
_

And it was, until mid-March of eighth grade. I had given up on trying to infiltrate the power trio of Courtney-the-princess, Kim-the-snark, and Eva-the-laugh. I hung out with Mick Morrison if I needed a project partner or was dying for some sort of friendly interaction.

To be honest, I think Courtney, Kim, and Eva avoided becoming close to me because my mom was the Headmistress. In addition to be the biggest insiders, they were also the most mischievous. They were infamous for playing pranks on the school. They were the ones who painted the gym mats, leaving the junior class with blue-splattered clothes during P&E. They secretly changed Mr. Mosckowitz's lesson plans, and he never quite caught on that it was them who kept changing test dates. Of course, they were caught frequently, but were often given easier punishments (unless they went too far) on the account of it was sort of ingenious to pull a prank off undetected.

Even though they excluded me from planning by doing everything when they thought I was asleep, I always overheard their schemes. Courtney was in charge of getting all needed supplies (she knew all of her credit card numbers by heart), Eva figured out the logistics, and Kim was the mechanical genius. On more than one occasion, I wondered what role I would play. If they ever let me in.

And eventually, they did.

---

_It was Wednesday night, and most of us were exhausted because of midterms. My mind felt overstuffed with advanced chemistry formulas, proper Norwegian etiquette, and encryption codes. The second I could finally ditch chemistry and encryption for the Covert Operations route, I'd be a very happy girl._

_I lied awake in my bed, feeling both awake and sleepy simultaneously. My body was practically paralyzed because of my P&E test, but my mind was buzzing. Not because I was stressed over more exams the next day, but because my roommates were planning something big._

_Typically, they made it a point never to mess with meals, because even the most apt pranksters needed to eat. I guess that rule changed._

_"All I'm saying is," Kim whispered, "we just need to get some sort of food dye in tomorrow's dinner."_

_Eva scoffed. "Food dye is amateur hour, people are going to notice if we're eating blue chicken."_

_"We could get some of that invisible dye shipped in from this Taiwan prison," suggested Courtney, "I know a guy."_

_"Yeah, but not even you can get us Taiwanese food dye in a day."_

_"We could just use an invisible ink solution—"_

_"And what, poison the entire school?"_

_"You got a better idea? This is the best prank we thought of! Just imagine everyone eating a normal looking dinner, but ending up with a green mouth. Pure gold!"_

_I couldn't help myself by listening in. The way they worked was just fascinating to me. At that moment, I wanted to help. I had proved my loyalty by not speaking up when I knew they were planning something. I earned this, right? And before I realized that I wasn't part of their scheme, I muttered the answer to their big question. _

_"Use an invisible solvent base," I mused, "in yellow crystalline powder. It's melt into the food and still turn their mouths green. Dr. Fibs has some."_

_There was an awkward, awe-filled silence. I expected Courtney to sneer and tell me to mind my own business; I expected Kim to interrogate me as to why I wasn't really asleep; I expected Eva to make a half-joke about me talking in my sleep._

_Instead, Courtney looked at me. I mean, really looked at me. As if she was seeing me for the first time. Her steely gaze broke into a sly grin, and the others followed suit._

_"Good idea, Morgan. Welcome to the team."_

_---  
_

After that, I was officially One of Them. If that prank hadn't work—and I still imagine my life if that happened—I don't think my life would have changed the way it did.

The transformation from Cammie-the-Nobody to Cammie-the-Somebody was quick and smooth. They integrated me into their group in a matter of days. There was no more eating alone with nothing but a good book or choosing to work alone on projects. Now, I ate with gusto with my new friends and opted to turn my party of one into a party of four. For once, I felt like a really belonged. It was like I was finally getting the sister experience I dreamed of.

I had my role: the chameleon. The way I could blend in with any surrounding shocked them, and I became the executioner—the one who actually _did _the prank. Whether it was stealing the invisible solvent base and putting it in the food or transforming my secret passages into storage rooms, I was unstoppable.

In addition to being part of their pranks and elaborate inside jokes (the Venice thing was in reference of when they got suck in a gondola near a trash can on a particularly hot night, courtesy of Eva), they also invited me to go with them on summer breaks. In the summer of ninth grade—when were officially best friends—Kim invited us to go to Korea with her, but I had to deny to spend yet another summer with the Malibu Barbie twins.

By junior year, we had turned from mischievous to certified reckless. The pranks were getting bigger and better (and I kept getting bigger lectures from Mom for participating), and I hate to say it, but more dangerous. Dying the food was one thing, but putting Madame Dabney's car on the roof was quite another. But I never refused to help out. I never said "don't you think this is too much?". Just like Alice, I found myself going deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole everyday. The girls tried to reassure me that these were all harmless jokes, and nothing bad could ever come from it.

Until it did.

_"Do you ever wonder about the alumni disk?" Courtney mused one day, while we were all nestled in one of our secret passages. It was winter, but standing out in the bitter cold was worth it just to watch the fresh snow fall._

_Kim yawned. "Um, no. Some of us aren't criminal masterminds." She had a point: Courtney was frequently becoming more evil with every plan._

_Yet, Eva must've caught onto her curious tones. "Seriously, Court. Drop it. The alumni disk has more security than every world leader combined. It's impossible."_

_"Yeah," I added, "and what would we even do with it? It's a waste of time."_

_"No it's not," she protested, "we'd be legends. Stealing the alumni disk and watching the entire school go wild? Pure _gold_."_

_My stomach flipped at the thought. We had conversations of sealing our legacy in Gallagher, but I didn't know she would take it this far. Courtney was obsessed with wanting to be remembered, her greatest fear was irrelevancy.  
_

_She must have been ignoring us, because she was twirling a lock of blonde hair with deep thought. Her eyes were focused and cryptic, and I should have predicted what she said next. I should have known she would be the catalyst for what went wrong in my life. I should have known.  
_

_Instead, I just looked at her with a dumbstruck expression as she steadied her gaze on me and said, "Nothing's impossible when you're the Headmistress' daughter."_

_And just like that, I felt my life changing again._

_---_

I only remember the rest in pieces.

I remember Courtney using every amount of persuasion she could to coerce us in stealing the alumni disk ("We'll say we found it when things get bad," she explained, "and we'll be _heroes_."), and I remember saying I'd help—if she really meant that we would return it. I remember spending countless nights awake with them, making sure we knew where it was and what kind of security the alumni disk had like the back of our hands. I remember searching my mom's office during Sunday dinners, while Kim and Eva worked through the ventilation systems to make sure we could get in and out of the office in a matter of seconds. I remember how terrible I felt about lying to her, that I was the reason of why she would go through so much stress in the next couple weeks. I remember feeling overjoyed when we perfected our plan, on how good it felt to _really_ belong.

But most of all, I remember getting caught.

_---_

_We were on a CoveOps assignment the day it all came crashing down. It was fairly simple: lose a tail in a crowded shopping mall, be at the entrance at four. Since we planned to execute our alumni disk prank immediately after, Courtney kept the main plans in a flash drive in her purse. I guess in losing her tail, she had misplaced her bag. Now that I look back on it, it really was a stupid mistake, but like all spies know: even the most brilliant of plans can be destroyed by a simple misstep._

_Ours was no exception._

_I can't lie, the four of us debated not telling. We could get away with it. We would be okay, we didn't leave any fingerprints leading to us. But, real lives were at risk now, with the plans to get inside the academy and take the disk out in the open, and lying was simply not an option._

_So we told. We went straight to my mom and poured our hearts out. I advised them not to cry, because that would only make matters worse. Kim and Eva both ignored my warnings, and started bawling when the realized that they could be expelled. Courtney was scared too, I could sense it, but she kept her stony gaze as she explained our plan out_—word for word—_ and where she left the flash drive. I almost expected my mom to yell at her for being the mastermind, but I had committed the greater sin: I was her _daughter_. Deceiving her was the worse thing I could do._

_I wasn't surprised when she told the three of them to please leave, and that they would be receiving their punishment after she was done with me._

_I almost wanted her to scream at me, tell me she hated me. I wanted some reaction, not just silence. But I knew she was quiet for a reason. By saying nothing, she said the most. This time, I really messed up. I put the academy at stake, and I put thousands of people at stake. There was nothing I could say to make it better. All because I wanted to fit in and be remembered, all because I was to stupid to say 'no'.  
_

_And for the first time in my life, I watched my mother lie her head in her hands and cry._

_---_

After that, life was a blur.

Kim, Eva, and Courtney got three months detention, lost all privileges, and were under serious probation for the rest of the year. I don't suspect Courtney minded; they were practically celebrities after they stepped out of my mom's office. She got her wish: she was going to be remembered. But was it worth it?

I, on the other hand, was not so lucky. Mr. Solomon got back the flash drive in a matter of hours after we confessed, and he made sure we got rid of all traces of our plans. But, Courtney's purse had definitely been tampered with, and the possibility that someone copied all of the information out of it was extremely high.

"We have a lot of enemies," he told me, "but stronger allies." That thought didn't comfort me.

My punishment was the biggest one my mother could think of: banishing me from the world that I had waited so long to enter. The academy was all notified of what happened, and I was to leave in disgrace. Not to Siberia, as I had hoped. But to Tina and Anna's house, where I was to to act as nothing but a normal girl until further notice. That was the harshest part, but "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned", and my mother was _furious._

After receiving a tip that a Lithuanian mob had the information out of the flash drive, my mom and dad made another big decision: go after it.

So, last Monday morning, the three of us went to the bus stop as a family for the last time. My mom refused to speak to me, and Dad just couldn't believe that his baby girl was practically a criminal. For some odd reason, it felt good to have them mad at me. I was finally getting what I had deserved: _justice._

Eventually, I had to board my bus to hell. We said our awkward goodbyes and never looked back. At least, they never looked back at me.

As bus starts moving, all I'm left to do is sit back and watch the road. Yes, I was leaving behind my friends, my parents were disappointed in me, and the school thought I was a disgrace to be called a Gallagher Girl. But, this was my chance to start over. And this time, I was going to do it right.

I had to.

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**wow, that was very lengthy chapter. probably the longest of this story. i'm sure some of it didn't make sense xD  
**

**i'm tweaking the plot a little bit. i always read stories where the alumni disk is stolen, but what if cammie was behind it? at first, i wanted something terrible to happen on a mission where cammie had to be sent away, but i think it's more interesting to have her as the cause of it. **

**the next chapter is about her first day of roseville high. fun stuff, yeah?**

**look forward to;**

**- punk!deedee  
- meeting zach.  
- a certain pair has some unfinished business to deal with.**

**reviews would make my day!**

**-- asha (:  
**


	3. excuse me mr

**AN****: thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter, guys. i know a lot of you are hating courtney for getting an easier punishment, but cammie wasn't all that innocent.  
**

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_"so please excuse me mr.  
you've got things all wrong  
you make it feel like a crime"-- _**no doubt  
---**

The first day of school was a whirlwind.

My morning went like this:

**6:05 AM: Tina and Anna attempt to wake up Operative Morgan for early morning primping.  
**

**6:06 AM: Operative Morgan said something very unkind in Hindi and threatened to tell the school their most embarrassing secrets if they didn't leave her alone.**

**7:08 AM: The operative finally woke up. Ate breakfast. Got dressed.  
**

**7:15 AM: Operative Morgan was forced to walk to school because Anna "forgot" to tell her that they leave to school at 7:00 to go get Starbucks. The operative was majorly pissed off.**

**7:30 AM: The operative received her schedule and locker combination and promptly realized that this school was, indeed, hell.**

---

I can't believe that of all of the things that could possibly ruin my morning, not being able to open my locker was one of them. I mean, I had a "B+" in Encryption, opening a locker should have been easy pickings. But instead, I was stranded in the hallway and forced to ditch my first period biology class to figure out how to open this dumb thing.

I'll admit that I had been entirely too over-confident when I stepped into Roseville. But can you blame me? Before I left Gallagher, Kim and I researched Roseville high, and the test scores were nothing to be proud of. Despite being registered as an advanced placement student, it was a given that the academic part of my life would be a cakewalk.

The social part, however, I wasn't sure of.

If you thought little podunk Roseville should have been named Plainville, USA (courtesy of Courtney), then think again. From the moment I stepped into the school, I know that my spy heritage wasn't the only thing setting me apart from my new peers. It wasn't enough that everyone looked like a model or movie star or wore designer clothes, but it was the fact that they _knew _they looked good. And that's a lot to walk into a Monday morning.

I'm used to being a black sheep, and on most days, I embrace it. But when you're constantly surrounded by girls like Tina, Anna, or even Courtney, that's enough to make _me_ want to run down to the mall and raid the makeup department.

But, I had other things to worry about. Like this stupid locker.

"You must be new here," a girl observed, strolling up to me. At first glance, I knew she was different from the other girls here. With her choppy platinum blonde hair streaked with hot pink and black, I was willing to bet that she was as much of an outsider that I was.

But still, a good spy never lets her guard down. "How do you know that?" I queried.

She shrugged. "Well, your clothes are slightly out of style, your shoes look too clean for having walked in the courtyard, and—" She tapped the locker. "—you would have known how to open your locker."

_Oh. _Maybe I underestimated the Roseville kids too quickly; the girl just used a textbook Eilern logic sequence, after all. She grabbed the combo out of my hand (Madame Dabney would have had her head for that), and opened the locker in a matter of three quick clicks.

"Uh, thank you?" I said, not completely sure if she had helped me or insulted me or did a combination of both.

She nodded, then smirked. "No worries, locker 113 is notoriously difficult." She popped her gum, a habit that I usually associated with Eva when she was nervous. "I'm DeeDee, by the way."

Now, I should know better than anyone that nothing is ever what it seems, but I had to repress a snort at her name. _DeeDee? _Was she kidding me? From her kohl rimmed eyes, black and white plaid mini dress, ripped tights, and combat boots—she looked more like Joan Jett and Cyndi Lauper's love-child rather than a _DeeDee_.

DeeDee must've caught onto my disbelief over her moniker, because she rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know. It's a sucky name. Short for Delia Denise." She grimaced. "My mom was a pageant queen," she explained, and we both started laughing.

"I'm Cammie Morgan," I hastily introduced myself. Saying my name—and not some bogus cover name—felt weird, but also comforting. Here, nobody would care that I was a Morgan. Or if my parents were CIA, M16, or FBI. Or that my mom was the Headmistress of my old school. The utter anonymity was nice.

DeeDee's widened. "_Oh_," she said, like my name was finally dawning on her, "_you're _the new girl. I thought we got more new kids, or something." She studied my face a little more. "I can't believe you're related to the Walters clones. And I thought _I _had it bad."

"You know I'm related to Tina and Anna?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Please, everyone knows by now. You're all anyone's been talking about. The Gallagher girl gone bad." I felt my stomach turn, and she was right in more ways than one. But, I had to remember what they saw me for: a spoiled brat who just messed up her life because she's bored and took everything for granted.

I bit my lip. "Yeah, you could say that—"

"So, what'd you get expelled for?" DeeDee demanded, her eyes looking brighter now. "Cheated on a test? Made out with a teacher? Come on, tell me. Let me into the life of the rich and scandalous!" she cried out dramatically. A teacher poked her head to see what all the commotion was, but DeeDee made a very rude hand gesture at her, and she retreated back inside. Something told me that my new friend was infinitely more scandalous than me.

I cleared my throat, mainly to buy time. Everyone was so upset over what happened that nobody gave me a viable cover story besides that I got expelled—which wasn't so far away from the truth. "I stole a car," I replied nonchalantly, hiding my mild surprise over my ability to lie like that on the spot. Usually, I left the lying and trickery to Courtney.

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. "You _stole _a car? Holy crap, and you got expelled for that?" She looked at me with a mix of shock and admiration. Obviously I didn't fit the bill as a car thief.

I grinned. "It was a teacher's car. Put it on the roof," I added, recalling the memory of how my friends and I managed to pull that prank off. None of us were particularly good drivers.

DeeDee was silent for a moment. "I think I underestimated you, Cammie. That sounds a like a wicked stunt, just sucks you got expelled for that—" Now, the two of us were walking aimlessly around the hallway, while she chattered on and on about how 'nobody would have the cajones to do that'. In a few short minutes, I found out that she wanted to start a ska band, sue MTV for misleading advertising, and how the school was full of 'superficial bitches'.

I just smiled, because just like that, I was already accepted by someone.

* * *

Fortunately, I had a good majority of my classes with DeeDee. Unfortunately, she chose to ditch a lot—but she made up for her sub par attendance by acing her tests. I had to draw the line somewhere. While she went to go meet up with her best guy friend, Preston (who apparently was in love with Macey McHenry, poor boy), I went to advanced trigonometry, world history, and painting. The first two were a piece of cake, but I realized that none of Kim's artistic skill had rubbed off on me.

Every time I stepped foot inside of a classroom, a hush fell over everyone. Every. Single. Time. You would think by third period they would have gotten used to the new kid, but I guess not. Each time, the teacher would ask me come to the front of the room and say a little about myself. I had the speech perfect to the punctuated marks:

_"My name is Cammie Morgan. Roseville high is really a lot different from the my old school, but I like it so far. My favorite subject is probably world history or math..."_ By then, everyone got bored of me, like I was just like everyone else. Usually after that, the teacher would cut me off and ask me to take my seat. Honestly, I think people expected me to be some sort of racy socialite—not just some bored looking girl who talked too little about her so called 'scandals'. Mostly, I just wanted to laugh, because they played into the stereotype of the spoiled Gallagher girl more than me.

By lunch time, my stomach was growling like mad. The bell rang, and the rush of people didn't overwhelm me as it did before. I found DeeDee and her crazy hair easily. I grabbed her arm and led her out of the sea of people, ignoring the fact that she smelled a little like cigarette smoke.

"Good thing you saved me, Cam," she joked, "I was about to die of claustrophobia."

"Your school breeds like rabbits," I responded with a snicker.

"Hey!" She pretended to take offense. "At least we don't breed _criminals_." The lighthearted smile on her face told me that she was only kidding; good thing too, my senses automatically tensed up at the word 'criminal'.

I pulled my frizzy hair back into a messy ponytail. "_T__ouché__._" I paused and smirked. "_Delia Denise_." Even though I only knew her for half a day, I knew that I could get away with a shot at her legal name.

She punched me in the arm with a giggle; I've been hit worse. "Watch it, Morgan."

"Oh, God, are you freaking kidding me?" a familiarly nasal voice called out to me. Of course, _Tina. _She power walked up to me, her pointy heels clicking furiously as she made her way across the hallway. I had to give her credit: she looked good. Better than usual, even. In fact, I'd say she was trying to impress someone.

"Hey, Tina," I greeted awkwardly. From the scowl on her glossed lips to the way she tugged at her freshly curled locks, I knew that she was pissed off at me. She would never risk messing up her hair for no reason.

She crossed her arms across her chest. "Don't _'hey, Tina_' me." She yanked my arm and dragged me closer to her. "What are you doing talking to _her_?" she whispered angrily, nodding her head at DeeDee.

DeeDee scoffed. "I'm standing right here, princess." Tina really needed to work on the whole "talking about someone when they're right there" thing.

"Oh please," Tina began, "I'm just being a good cousin and saving Cam from the likes of _you_." It was the classic "popular girl vs. punk girl" power struggle. Half of me wanted to jump in and tell them both to stop; half of me wanted to laugh. Hard.

DeeDee held her ground. "Don't you have some eyelashes to curl? Don't hurt yourself, now."

"Don't _you _have some stupid comebacks to think up?" sneered Tina.

"_Laguna Beach _called, they want their irrelevant bitch back."

"Seriously, why don't you just get arrested and give us all a break? See you in five to ten years, skank."

Before I could step in tell them to knock it off (or knock them both off), DeeDee rolled her eyes and turned to me, "When you're done with Miss Priss over here, come find me, 'kay?" she said, leaving quickly after.

As soon as she was out of earshot, I rounded on Tina. "What the hell was _that_?"

"Stay away from her," she warned, "and I'm not just saying that because she's a freak. I know you guys bond because you're both criminals or something. But if you cared about Anna and me, you'll stay away from her." There was no way I could respond to that statement without sarcasm, so I kept my mouth shut. Why did they think DeeDee was so bad? I mean, she was pretty nice to me. I made a mental note to investigate what she had done to the twins.

Tina took my silence as an agreement, so she took my hand and led me to the cafeteria. "Good! Now, come on. It's time you met the people who _really _matter.

* * *

The cafeteria was larger than I expected.

Every square inch was occupied with a person, table, or chair. The sheer noise of it all almost shattered my ear drums. More than once, I've wondered how much different my life would be if I had never gone to Gallagher, I wondered what I was missing out on. Now, I realized the only thing I missed out on was an immediate headache from the noise and eating debatable meats.

Tina had directed me to the center of the cafeteria, to a table occupied with the very same faces she had practically made me memorize the day before. Sure enough, I recognized Bex and Grant arguing over a watch, Liz doing what seemed to be Spanish homework, Jonas flipping through a magazine, and Anna and Josh looking too couple-y for my tastes.

"Hey guys" Tina said, as she took the empty seat next to Liz. She motioned for me to grab a chair from the next table and sit next to her; I obliged. Just as I had experienced before, all eyes immediately fell on me and I felt a blush reaching my cheeks. "That's Cammie, " she added, pointing at me lazily. "This is _everyone_."

Her friends all mumbled variations of "hey" or "hi", and then turned back to whatever they were doing. How anti-climatic. But, I was glad they all ignored me. Here I was, infiltrating their tight-knit group, after all. You had to earn friendships, I knew _that_ more than anyone.

"Anyone seen Macey today?" Anna asked, ungluing herself from Josh for a moment.

Liz shook her head. "Out sick today, poor thing." I guess 'out sick' had a different meaning with them, because the way she said it made it seem like Macey was in the hospital.

For the next half hour, I did what all Chameleons did best: stayed quiet and tried to blend in. Tina and Liz were absorbed in a conversation about an English project they were working on together. Josh and Jonas were discussing a new science fiction movie they wanted to check out, and Anna made less than obvious attempts to get Josh's attention again by licking her lips or resting her head on his shoulder.

Bex and Grant's conversation, however, I found the most interesting.

"—can't believe you got me this stupid watch," Grant grumbled, toying around with it in an attempt to make it work.

Bex argued, "I got it for you so you would be on time for once! If I get detention one more time because _you _picked me up late in the morning then I'll—"

"Chill out, babe—"

"Don't call me _babe_. That's condescending." Her accent was getting thicker by the word.

Grant threw the watch on the table in frustration. "How do you expect me to use it if it's in _Korean_?"

I caught the instruction section of the watch in the corner of my eye. Standard Korean, easy to translate. Before I could stop myself, I blurted, "It says that you need to press the left button and toggle the switch. In that order."

Again, all eyes were on me. But not for good reason. Each one of them had a look of bewilderment plastered on their face. I mentally cursed myself for potentially wrecking my cover.

"You know Korean?" Grant questioned with a raised eyebrow.

My heart rate quickened, but I didn't let my panic show. "Yeah," I said briskly, "I took Korean as an elective for the past couple years." Okay, not totally a lie, but was it believable?

Bex chuckled. "Well, I guess you Gallagher girls are good for something." Everyone laughed, including me. I knew they were all snickering because they had their own inside jokes about my school. But I was laughing for different reasons. I was laughing because she was absolutely right, we Gallagher girls _are _good for something.

But, _what _we were good for, they would never know.

* * *

After lunch, I grudgingly went to my Spanish class with Liz and Anna. It was ridiculously easy, but I think after the Korean incident, I'd have to play down my language skills quite a bit. Then to PE, which I found out was miles different from Protection and Enforcement. After one particularly strong girl kicked me in the shin during soccer, it took all my self-control not to use the Sandoval maneuver on her (which was banned in 1952).

English class was a welcome solace. I loved the small, book filled classroom right off the bat. I double loved the fact that the teacher—Miss Palmero—didn't make me stand in the front of the room and give my lame speech over again. I was so taken by the atmosphere that when the bell rang, I had to sit in the empty seat in the back alone.

She gave me the book the class was reading—_The Great Gatsby_—but I didn't mention that I had read the _real_ (the one that was never published in the US) edition of the book ages ago. While the rest of the class discussed the latest chapter, Miss Palmero instructed me to read up to chapter four.

_The Great Gastby _was one of my favorite books, so I got so absorbed into the 1920s society it embodied that I didn't even realize that somebody had slid into the empty seat next to me. Using the reflection off the window, I realized that not just anyone had taken the seat next to me. It was Zach Goode. _Zach. _Zach that Tina was obsessed with. Zach who I thought was only slightly cuter than Josh. Zach who supposedly knew everything about everyone.

And he was sitting right next to me.

It took a few moments for me to regain composure, and I when I did, I pretended to look at the clock behind him and then notice him as if it were by chance. "Oh. Hey." I said, keeping my expression perfectly indifferent.

He grinned, and a dark lock of hair fell into his eyes as he looked up from his own book (_The Old Man and the Sea_, I noted). "Took you long enough," he responded, and it was obvious that he knew I knew he was sitting there the whole time.

"I'm Cam—"

"Cammie," he finished. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Apparently everyone has," I muttered, mostly to myself. Did privacy even exist at this school?

He marked the page in his book and closed it. "I'm Za—"

"Zach," I mocked him, "I've heard a lot about _you._"

He raised an eyebrow. "Looks like somebody did her research," he replied skeptically.

I shrugged. "It's not exactly research when you're related to a Walters," I joked, feeling a little proud of myself. For someone who had practically zero male interaction for her whole life, I thought I was doing a pretty good job of keeping my cool while talking to the very boy who made _Tina_—of all people—blush at the thought of. "They're crafty," I added.

Zach laughed a little. His laugh was nice. Hoarse, but nice. "Well, I hear you're pretty crafty yourself," he paused to see my reaction; I didn't give him one, "Getting expelled from Gallagher is a pretty big deal, don't you think?"

I rolled my eyes, but I decided to play with his perception of Gallagher girls. "Yeah, it's a big deal. You know, a girl got kicked out for having ugly shoes. That's the biggest sin you can commit." I said it with my best 'airhead' voice, which was really just a direct mockery of the twins.

"I bet stealing a bike was the second biggest sin."

"No," I hesitated, wondering where he was going with this, "but stealing a _car_ is," I recalled the story I had fed to DeeDee.

He grinned slyly. "Somebody's good at keeping her stories straight." I felt my heart skip a beat: he was testing me. Zach wanted to know _why _I got kicked out, and he was willing to get tricky to get the truth. I had the advantage. If there's one thing a Gallagher girl is good at, it's keeping her cover. And I was sticking with mine until the end.

I tried to look nonchalant. "It's the life of a hardened criminal," I retorted sarcastically. My patience was running thin.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the day. The class had flown by quicker than I thought, and the students filed out quickly. Zach stayed behind, and I didn't know if he was waiting for me or just actually tying his shoe. When he got back up and saw me standing there, he said, "Wow, I'm very flattered you would wait for me." The indigant look on his face told me that he was, in fact, just tying his shoe.

I felt my cheeks turn red. "Please," I tried to channel the confident girl I was a few moments ago, "I was just marking my page," I huffed, fidgeting with my bag.

"Didn't look like it."

"Maybe you should get your eyes checked."

He shrugged. "Duly noted," he slung his own bag over his shoulder, "but I gotta go. See you later, _Gallagher Girl_." The way he said my new nickname—either as an insult or term of endearment—made me feel angry or flustered, depending on which way I was feeling.

And I was feeling like I'd be seeing a lot more of Zach Goode.

* * *

**wow, yet another long chapter. i didn't mean to make it so lengthy, but hey, more for the readers, right? =p**

**reviews would be fab, guys! tell me what you thought of it**

**-- asha :D  
**


	4. fluorescent adolescent

"_falling about  
you took a left off last laugh lane  
you just sounded it out  
you're not coming back again."  
_**-- arctic monkeys**

**_---_**

The rest of the week was unremarkable.

My status as the New Girl had wore off quicker than I had anticipated. Once people realized that my life (as in, the non-spy one) was about as interesting as paint drying, they left me alone. I gabbed in class with DeeDee (the few days she decided to show up), spent my lunch in the abyss that was Tina and Anna's social circle, and the rest of the day trying not to die of boredom. Honestly, were the people a Roseville completely unaware that there was even a world outside of their materialistic existence? Between the petty drama and ridiculous gossip, it was a wonder that people managed to pass their classes.

The only person who agreed with my opinion of Roseville was DeeDee and Zach. DeeDee's thoughts I took with a grain of salt, simply because she was just as obsessed with her appearance and finding out rumors as Tina—only her version used a lot more black.

Zach, on the other hand, was another story. I had found out from, no surprise, Tina that Zach's parents were diplomats and he had traveled quite a bit before settling in Roseville, so he was a lot more weary of the town than I was. If the computer I used at the Walters' was more secure, I would have done a very thorough background check on that claim. It wasn't that I didn't believe Tina. I mean, if stalking Zach was an Olympic sport, she'd win the gold with no competition. But in the spy world, claiming your parents were "diplomats" or "ambassadors" was simply a cover up for "field agent"

But since I am stranded in Planet Basic, there was no way to research that little fact about Zach. So, I let it go. Plus, it wasn't like I could interrogate him or anything. His attendance wasn't as nearly as atrocious as DeeDee's, but something told me that the only reason he bothered showing up to school was his post as editor of the school paper. His editor duties, I learned this week when he didn't show up to English, often conflicted with classes.

My after school life wasn't more eventful. Tina and Anna made it very clear that hanging out with DeeDee was a criminal offense, and I was serving my punishment by not getting to attend any of their get togethers or as Anna put it, _soirees. _I could cry myself to sleep over that, you know.

But above everything else, school was unbearable because it wasn't the Gallagher Academy. I couldn't get attached to anybody because they weren't Courtney, Kim, or Eva. And most of all, I couldn't be myself. All because I would be committing an even greater sin, _blowing my cover._

_

* * *

_

The doorbell rang at an obscenely early hour.

Seeing as I don't like to wake up until I am absolutely sure that Tina and Anna have left the house (I have been permanently banned from their morning Starbucks trips), this was a shock to my system. I hopped out of bed and strode down stairs, paying no attention to the fact that I probably resembled the Bride of Frankenstein. By the time it occurred to me that I should have at least washed my face first, my arms had already swung the door open. Thanks, body.

And to my surprise, DeeDee stood their in all of her vintage clothed glory. Today, she had donned an orange, black, and white mod style dress over black tights. If it wasn't for the fact that her hair was teased into a beehive and her lipstick was bright yellow, she could have passed for normal.

"What are you doing here?" I meant to say, but do to my sleepy state probably sounded like _whaaryodooeer? _I don't function like a normal human being until 8 AM.

She looked at me like I had suddenly grew a second head, or that I had lost a significant amount of brain cells. "I said I would pick you up this morning, _re-mem-ber_?" She waved her cell phone in my face for emphasis. Then, I did _re-mem-ber_. DeeDee was outraged that the twins deprived me of a ride to school, so she offered to it herself.

"Oh," I said, scratching my head. "Did you call me this morning?" I vaguely remembered my new cell phone going off continually before I threw it at a wall.

DeeDee rolled her eyes. "No, it wasn't me. It was Alex Turner," she deadpanned.

"Alex Turner?" I repeated quizzically.

"Arctic Monkeys! Have you not listened to the CD I lent you? God!" As she voiced her exasperation with my dated knowledge of music, she turned me around and pushed up the stairs. So much for asking if you could come in somebody's home. "Meet me outside in fifteen! Hurry up, dammit!"

If I was fully awake, I could have argued to get twenty minutes of getting ready time, but seeing as the yellow lipstick made her look crazier than usual—I didn't test my chances. Luckily, at Gallagher, Mr. Solomon often woke us up at unreasonable hours and told us to get ready in five minutes and meet him at the helicopter/mall/airport. I was an expert the art of quick changes.

---

Within fifteen minutes, I was showered, brushed, and moisturized enough to resemble a normal human being. Anna had oh so courteously left out an outfit for me to wear (navy dress, vest, and flats) which I kicked to the side the second I saw the length of the dress. Jeans and a sweatshirt would be fine.

After locking the front door, balancing my bag, and slipping on my shoes all simultaneously, I began the trek down to DeeDee's car. When I saw it, I stopped dead in my tracks.

It wasn't a car, it was a van. A van that looked like she hijacked it from some stoned hippie at Woodstock. A bright purple van, with yellow psychedelic insignias and bumper stickers covering the entire left side. If that wasn't enough, there was a little sign that said "taxi" on the top. A _rotating _taxi sign, mind you.

DeeDee caught me gaping at the car and grinned at me with pride. "I found it a junkyard. Can you believe somebody just _left _it there?" I took one more glance at van, just to make sure we were looking at the same car.

Was she serious? I bit the inside of my cheek so I couldn't laugh at it. "I cannot believe somebody would do that. The car is just so..." I tried thinking of the perfect word for the 1960s eyesore. DeeDee looked at me expectantly "—unique?" I finished uncertainly.

DeeDee ignored my unsure tone. "I knew you'd love it!" She patted the driver's seat door affectionately. "He's been mine since last year. Can't imagine driving any other car besides old Al, here." She spoke of the car fondly as if were a person...and not a hunk of neon metal.

My nose scrunched up subconsciously. "Old Al?" I queried.

She beamed once again at _old Al._ "Short for _Alejandro_, the super delicious guy who fixed the taxi sign for me. Alejandro is so incredibly hot, words can't even describe it." She paused for millisecond. "The person, I mean. Even though the car ain't too bad itself," she joked.

"Are you still calling the van Alejandro?" Another voice called out from the open window. "I thought we decided on calling the car Peter Parker!" The passenger door flew open, and out stepped an extremely lanky guy. I guessed over six foot, easily. He is the type of boy Eva would have crushed on like crazy: the semi-cute geek. Between his out of control brown hair, puppy dog brown eyes, and extremely cool Batman shirt— I liked him right away. He seemed like a nice change from Tina and Anna's Stepford Wife-ness and DeeDee's thrift shop ways.

"For the last time, Preston," DeeDee began exasperatedly, "we are _not _calling the van Peter Parker. It's tacky."

"How about the Batmobile?" he tried again.

"No."

"The Yellow Submarine?"

"It's not even yellow, so no."

"The Sex Machine?" This one Preston said with a sheepish grin, causing me to believe they had kept the van with the swinger's spirit of the sixties. But, looking at Preston again, I seriously doubted success in his love life.

"Ugh, we can talk about this later. I don't want to be late to school," DeeDee answered as she hopped in the car and revved up the engine. At least the van—sorry, Alejandro, ran well.

Preston took the shotgun seat, to my dismay. But, the back was better anyway. I had always been prone to carsickness. The inside of the van wasn't as loud as the outside, the seats were gray with the occasional stain of fast food or soda. The seat belts seemed to be secure and DeeDee was obeying the speed limit. I could relax.

After take a swig of his Mountain Dew, Preston turned to face me. "Ah, so you're the infamous Cammie Morgan." _Infamous?_ I guess he hadn't heard the rumor that I was the equivalent of vanilla ice cream and water when it came to scandal.

DeeDee fielded that comment for me. "You would know Cammie isn't like the other Gallagher chicks if you bothered to show up to school." I stifled a snort. Pot, meet kettle.

'Hey, I go to school!" Preston protested. "It's just that periods one through three are useless to me. I mean, when I am I ever going to need pottery, gym, or analyzing book skills?" He stared at the passing scenery longingly. "I'd rather be at the park or at the movies. Roseville can suck it."

"Ooh, spoken like a true governor's son," DeeDee teased. Suddenly, the name 'Preston' and the word 'governor' clicked. He was Preston Winters, son of governor-elect Winters. Mick Morrison's uncle was his bodyguard, though I highly doubted a governor would need a bodyguard while in rosy Roseville.

Still, I tried to play off my extensive knowledge of political figures and their children (for the record, the son of the previous Prime Minister of Italy? Such a babe.) "Your dad is the governor?" I asked nonchalantly.

Preston winced, I could guess this was a sore subject with him. "Not yet, he hasn't been inaugurated yet. I am absolutely dying of anticipation." He delivered that last bit with an extremely dry tone.

"Pres is just pissed that he doesn't fit into his dad's idea of a model son," DeeDee explained. I guess they had no problem airing out each other's innermost thoughts. My stomach lurched, and I could only imagine how casually DeeDee could be telling somebody _my _secrets.

Preston absentmindedly kicked the chair. "Just that _his _idea of a model son is that asshole Josh Abrams—" Wait Josh Abrams? As in _Anna's_ Josh Abrams?

DeeDee's face suddenly—and suspiciously—looked more solemn, more resigned. "He is the epitome of asshole," she said stiffly. I felt more exposed, more awkward, like I was eavesdropping on some private conversation.

Preston let out a laugh. "You weren't saying that three months ago." I did the math in my head. Three months ago was August. Summer time.

"I was young," DeeDee answered dramatically, "and foolish. I now see the error of my ways."

"I repeat: _three months ago_." Preston looked pointedly at me. "Hey, did you ever wonder why the clones hate Dee so much?" He sounded like an over excited five year old. DeeDee attempted to smack him in the head, but instead narrowly missed swerving into a mailbox.

"They hate me because I make them question their pitiful obsession with today's pop culture?" DeeDee replied innocently.

A loud game show-esque buzzer noise came from Preston. "Nope. Try again."

"They hate me because—"

"—Time's up! Thanks for playing _Guess Why The Clones Hate Me_, but the answer we were looking for was the fact that you went out with Josh "Asshole" Abrams for a month." Now, I've heard a lot of shocking things in my life: what kind of scare tactics the CIA once used, the fact that my mom had killed a rogue agent with a tube of lipstick, and that Courtney used to be an extremely unfortunate looking kid. But at the moment, none of them held a candle to what Preston just said.

DeeDee and Josh. Clean cut, all-American Josh with raggedy, yellow lipstick wearing DeeDee. Josh, the same one who's dating clean cut, my all-American cousin, and DeeDee, who drives a bright purple van named Alejandro. It just didn't make sense to me.

Apparently, it didn't sit with DeeDee either. "Oh, shut the hell up! We weren't even dating!" she shrieked, with a murderous look in her eyes.

"What's your definition of "dating" then? Because with all of the make out sessions in the Batmobile—

"_Alejandro_," she corrected. "And please don't ever say _make out session_ again when referring to me and Josh."

"Well, saying you guys got all _hot and heavy_ in _Alejandro _just sounds sexual," Preston argued. I had to hold back a smile. In the short amount of time I knew DeeDee, I pegged her to be a lot like Courtney: calm, cool, and collected. To see her buttons get pushed by a boy like Preston was just hilarious.

DeeDee mimed throwing up as we finally drove into the school parking lot. She turned off the engine and stared at me through the mirror. "Look, Cammie. Don't listen to Preston." She bit her lip, obviously trying to find the right words. "We dated, and I'm using the word _dating _very loosely—"

"Still using it," muttered Preston.

"for about three weeks. If anything, it didn't even matter to him. We were both looking for something fun, not serious." She cleared her throat. "And different. But hey, that's how all summer flings are, right?" I didn't answer, seeing as I had no summer flings to compare. "But yeah, now he's with Thing 1 and the universe is back into place again. No big deal."

"That's not what Josh thought," Preston snorted. "He was hung up over you for weeks. Serves him right, the asshole." As he mumbled the last bit to himself, Preston gathered his bag together and gave us a small salute. "Now, I'm off to go reap the benefits of making a shitty clay vase. See you. And," he smiled at me. "Nice meeting you, Cam. Good to know you're not like the others."

DeeDee and I didn't linger in the parking lot, and I was glad to be back in the fresh air. She didn't waste any time explaining to me how Preston was in no shape to say anything about her and Josh, seeing as he's been in love with Macey "_Mussolini" _ McHenry for years. I only vaguely heard what she was saying because Preston's words were still echoing in my ears and punching me in the gut.

_"Good to know you're not like the others." _My job was to blend in, to be the Chameleon I always thought I was. Was I really that transparent?

* * *

My classes flew by that day. My painting in art managed to resemble the apple I had been assigned to, I didn't show off my language skills or any other skills that would draw suspicion to me, and I actually had a conversation with Tina and Anna's group at lunch.

I had divided the A-listers into two groups: barely tolerable and surprisingly awesome. Tina, Anna, and Josh (out of semi-loyalty for DeeDee and because he was dating Anna) were barely tolerable. As I found out today, after Bex started an extensive game of "Would You Rather", she, Grant, Liz, and Jonas were surprisingly awesome. Sure, they weren't my old crew at Gallagher, but it was high time I started to like some people in Roseville. Who knew when I would be going back home?

As much as I hated to admit it, I was dreading the return of Macey McHenry. One week had passed and I haven't even caught a glimpse of her. Tina had informed me at lunch that Macey had went to Paris for a week to break up with her rocker boyfriend. Anna had heard that Macey went to California for a small role in a soon to be Hollywood blockbuster. Eventually, Bex just rolled her eyes and said they were both wrong: Macey was just sick this week.

Still. If it seemed plausible that she could be living that kind of lifestyle, I only wondered what she'd be like to me. She was the personification of the Gallagher Academy stereotype, and she hasn't even stepped foot on the property.

By the time English class came around, I was exhausted. The school was much bigger than I was used to and the secretary unknowingly played a cruel joke on me by having my classes as far away as humanly possible. Luckily, all we were doing was typing up an analysis on a character of our choice from _The Great Gastby_. And typing is something I was confident I could do in an REM state. Miss Palmero had stepped out to make some copies and probably for a coffee, seeing as she looked as tired as I was. So, I rested my head on the desk to catch a few Z's.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," a voice whispered in my ear, simultaneously giving me a heart attack. Out of instinct, I shot out of my seat and whirled my head around looking for the culprit. My eyes landed on Zach. Zach of all people, kicking back in the seat next to me and wearing an annoyingly amused grin on his face. Totally not the kind of _Z's _I wanted to catch.

"Oh," I said as I took my seat again, "it's just _you._"

He put his hand to his heart in mock offense. "You know, most people would just settle for a _'good afternoon' _or _'what's up_' when greeting somebody," he said calmly.

"Most people don't wake other people up when they're clearly enjoying a good nap," I responded testily. I am my most crankiest when deprived of sleep.

"I forgot," he mused, "you're not like most people." Again, somebody saying I'm not like the others. I'm sensing a theme. What made me so different from everybody else? All I wanted to do was make it through the day without blowing my cover or falling asleep. Nothing too revolutionary there.

I didn't reply. I pulled out my analysis sheet and started typing. "So, what brings you to class today? You haven't _graced_ us with your presence all week."

He shrugged. "Editor crap, same as usual."

"You sound so passionate about your work," I said sarcastically, keeping my eyes on the computer screen.

"Are you kidding me?" Zach laughed. "Correcting punctuation and deciding which stories makes the cut is my _life._" He took my stony gaze as a gesture to go on, he dropped his voice. "To be completely honest, I only applied to be editor to see if I could get in."

"And?" I hated myself for being interested.

"Obviously, I did. I'm planning on quitting at semester. Can't stand it at all."

"Well," a new unfamiliar girl voice answered. "you never could stand much, could you Zach?" In walked in a tall girl, with black hair and bright red lips. Her eyes were shaded by her large—presumably designer—sunglasses. She was wearing jeans and sweater too, but pulled it off infinitely better than I could ever hope to. I realized that I was looking at her like the spy I was: taking in small details before looking at the big picture.

And the big picture was Macey McHenry.

"_Macey_," Zach said softly to himself, making no point to hide his staring. He said her name like he hadn't seen her in an awfully long time, which seemed ridiculous to me as school has been in session for three months now. But, it didn't change the fact that my stomach lurched at his sudden change in tone.

"Long time, no see," she said coolly, taking the seat next to Zach and taking a sip of her drink.

Zach collected himself quickly. "Nah, I've seen you around. More like see, but no talk."

She smirked. "I wasn't aware it was Talk Like a Caveman Day."

"You didn't get the memo?" he joked. Once again, I felt like an outcast as I watched two—seemingly—old friends and their witty conversations. I had never missed my old friends and our rhythm of speaking as much as I did now.

Zach must've sensed my awkwardness, because he gestured toward me and said, "Oh, this is Cammie. You know, the twins' cousin?"

Macey slipped off her sunglasses and gave me the once over. Even though her baby blues were only focused on me for a matter of seconds, it felt like ages. Suddenly, I was very aware that my hair was frizzy and there was an unsightly zit near my cheek. Hopefully it could just pass as a mole or a freckle. Hopefully.

"New blood," she finally said, "nice. But, I don't see the family resemblance. You look..." She paused. My heart stopped. Why do I care so much about her opinion, again? "realer than they do."

"Realer?" I repeated, contemplating whether or not that was a word. _More real_, I decided, _would be more correct._

"Isn't that what I said?" she replied, like I was slow or something. I felt my cheeks flush. Luckily, she turned her attention back to Zach. "So anyway, I'm having a party this weekend. Standard stuff—"

"That's what Jen Forsters said." He turned to me. "And the police ended up arresting three people," he explained dryly. Now, I already had somewhat of a criminal past. I don't think it was in my best interest to be attending parties like that at the moment. Not that I was hoping to be invited, or anything.

_Please invite me_, a small voice in my brain squeaked before I promptly blocked anymore thoughts like that.

"Yeah, but I'm not whacked out like Jen," Macey added indignantly, "she's absolutely crazy. Think of this more as a housewarming party. We're renovating the entire ground floor of our house, so I need one more hurrah before the china and chandeliers come in. Friday at seven, be there Zach. I mean it, we gotta _catch up_" With that, she gathered her smoothie and handbag and was about to leave before looking at me.

"Oh and Cammie? You should go too." The little squeaky voice in my head started dancing, and I felt acceptance fireworks going through my system. "I'm sure that Tina and Anna would drag you along anyway." Okay, so that last bit was only mildly discouraging (did she think they had to babysit me or something?) but something told me that being invited to a party by Macey McHenry personally meant something here, because a cluster of kids in the classroom were eyeing me jealously.

Once Macey was out of the classroom, I let out a small laugh. "Is she always so.." I didn't know how to finish that sentence. Who knew how close she and Zach were?

"What, is she always so alluring, mysterious—"

"Slightly terrifying?" I finished honestly, bracing myself for him to make some smart-ass (because he seemed like the type) comment about me judging somebody so quickly.

Instead, he grinned at me like he had never seen something quite like me. "Macey McHenry, terrifying?" he repeated, before looking at me with the most serious expression he had ever had in the short time I knew him.

He closed his eyes. "You don't even know the half of it."

* * *

**an: long time, no write, eh? well, i hope you enjoy the extra long chapter and i hope it makes up for months of absence :/  
**

**unfortunately, i don't own alex turner or the arctic monkeys. and i am not sure of the previous prime minister of italy's son and his babehood. not even sure if he has a son. **

**i'm apologizing in advance for typos.  
**

**so yeah, preston and deedee are bffs. i like them as bffs. zach and macey though, are a completely other story. **

**the party will be in the next chapter! so look out for it!**

**reviews would not only be lovely, they would make my day because you all know how i love feedback.**

**--asha (:**

**ps: thanks to all of the very kick-booty people continue to review my stories even though i am the worst updater in the world. it means a lot!  
**


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